


near, far, wherever you are

by hyuckyang



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Class Differences, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, implied noren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18696661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuckyang/pseuds/hyuckyang
Summary: Mark Lee, a homeless orphan wins a golden ticket by chance that changes his entire life. He wins a ticket to board the great Titanic, where he meets the nobleman Lee Donghyuck that is way out of his league — or so it seems.





	near, far, wherever you are

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my dearest friends! 
> 
> I wanted to further highlight that just like the tags say, this story has a happy ending and is relatively different from the original Titanic movie which means that no character dies. I am still unable to do sad endings, thankfully. 
> 
> Anyhow, please enjoy my take on this movie. :}

i In the entirety of his short life that consisted of nineteen dull years, Mark never experienced the sight of the harbor being as crowded as it is this morning. Masses of people scattered around in groups, some rich with sleek clean tailored coats and suits, others dirt poor trying to stick their necks out long enough to catch a sight of the event currently unfolding. The early April heat made it no less aggravating as most people found their clothes sticking to the outer layer of their skin in an uncomfortable manner making the crowd seem even more cramped in.

 

All those factors aside, most people would argue that today was by far the most desirable day of their life. If not all, at least the people who crawled their way through their lives in hopes of scoring themselves the golden ticket to the greatest ship the world has ever seen.

 

The ship, also known as the  _RMS Titanic_ hovered proudly over the sea with length and width further than the naked eye could capture. It even smelled luxurious, from its spotless paint job that still glistened under the bright sunlight to its passengers with their expensive perfumes that crawled it’s way into your nostrils whether you asked for it or not.

 

To say that it was the biggest event of the century would be moderately an understatement.

 

There are four separate entrances to the ship, all guarded by door guards as broad as a barn door. Conversations are usually kept short and simple, mostly there for formalities than anything. The guards duck their hats for each person that passes them by with a short  _good morning_ , only to receive it back by the gentlemen or a giggling dip from the ladies.

 

It was all calculated and generic up until Mark shows up to entrance number three.

 

‘’Now where do you think you are going, young fellow?’’ a hand lands on his chest, resulting in him halting in his movements. The line behind him starts stirring in its place on an instance, demanding to receive their well-awaited entry. Two children proceed to whine for ice cream, followed by their parents asking them to  _shut their mouth traps up_.

 

‘’I’m boarding the ship, good sir,’’ Mark bows his head in a messy greeting and crocks it to the side subsequently in wonder.

 

The guard gives him a quick once over with eyes spiced with bafflement. His eyebrows furry in curiosity, making him seem older than his presumable age. ‘’I’m going to have to ask you for your ticket, young fellow. No offense, you do not seem like the type to afford such cruise,’’ the guard trails off with an audible click of his tongue.

 

Mark stares into his eyes three dragged out seconds before he buries his fist inside the right side pocket of his loose pants. Between a packet of gum, three coins, and a crumpled up receipt is the neatly folded ticket he had just won by sheer luck two hours ago. The black ink on it reflect proudly against the rays of the sun, and Mark has no doubts that his own smile matches.

 

‘’Oh,’’ the guard becomes too stunned to hide his state of shock. He brings the card closer to eyes to the point where it’s smashed against his glasses and rereads it out loud two times before he brings it down with a small huff. ‘’Very well, boy. I wish you the uttermost pleasant trip. I might suggest you buy yourself some new attire from one of our shops inside of the ship. That is if you can afford it, of course.’’

 

Mark has no will to further conversate with the degrading guard so he takes off running before the elderly man finishes off his sentence. Running is perhaps the wrong word, his action resembles more of a skipping motion.

 

Inside the ship are no fewer people to his surprise. The lobby is buzzing with crewmen and freshly boarded passengers. It’s a hustle to push through them, but Mark has always been a small person so it doesn’t take too much of his energy.

 

“Can I escort you to your cabin, sir?”

 

Mark gazes over his shoulder when a sweet voice invades his senses. He has never been referred to as  _sir_ but the tapping on his shoulder tells him that the words were directed towards him.

 

‘’Please. This lobby is one mess and a half,’’ Mark jokes. The joke does not reach the top of the high striker judging by the confused grimace on the thin steward. Mark coughs in order to save himself from further embarrassment and looks down on his ticket. ‘’Cabin F43.’’

 

‘’Very well,’’ the steward nods. ‘’Please direct me to your luggage.’’

 

Mark shrugs and slaps his hands on top of his thighs. ‘’I carry no luggage.’’

 

‘’Are you kid—,’’ the steward tries to roll his eyes discreetly but fails to do so. He regains his posture and begins to rub his collar-covered neck. ‘’Sir, this is a trip that will last for two weeks, I’m confident you must want to bring  _something_ with you.’’

 

‘’I have nothing to bring. I own nothing but the clothes on my body and three silver coins I stole from a dead drunk last evening,’’ Mark overshares. Despite his actions, the steward hasn’t given him a reason to distrust him. Furthermore, Mark was never shameful of who he was as a person and lying about it has never been a part of his spirit.

 

‘’Aren’t you an interesting fellow,’’ the steward hums. He starts walking in a direction unbeknown to Mark and all he can do is follow along his trail with eager feet.

 

 

By the time Mark is settled down in his third class cabin, a massive  _thud_ erupts from one of the steam horns. Mark knew by experience (from watching other boats from the harbor) that this horn indicated the departure of the  _Titanic_.

 

The cabin itself was nothing spectacular in the eyes of a nobleman Mark would like to assume. A bunk bed was squeezed into the right side of the room with mattresses no taller than his pinky finger and two fluffy pillows. A small folded desk is on the left side of the room that has a pot of sad looking flowers wilting by the second. The steward had informed him that the room was located next to one of the largest engines so the constant noise might be bothersome, but  _you get what you pay for_ he had said. Makes sense since Mark hadn’t wasted a single penny on the ticket.

 

If you ask Mark — this room is the greatest luxury he has ever experienced in his whole life. A bed for himself is far more than he could even bargain for, let alone one with  _two_ pillows.

 

—

 

By the time the morning shifted into early noon, both the inside and the outside of the ship seemed to have settled down. They had just begun their journey by entering the embrace of the endless sea when Mark left the loneliness of his cabin. The hallway was noticeably more vacant this time around since all the passengers had proceeded to make a temporary home of their cabins. Unlike Mark, all people came bearing at least a luggage or two, so it was to no surprise that it took them longer to settle in. Not that it matters, of course. Mark was undoubtedly extremely pleased to collect as much privacy as he can. Just to explore, no more or less.

 

Some areas are restricted for each respective class division. The first class passengers have a pass to walk around freely, the second class passengers can only visit the second and third class areas whilst the third class was restricted to their own areas marked rather boldly and clearly along the walls. There are some guards scattered around, but it was never strict enough for Mark to worry about sneaking in somewhere. His clothing sold him off relatively well, however.

 

Being on a grand ship such as the  _Titanic_ brought a certain curiousness about the deck. Mark always admired the sea with curiosity that matched one of a small child. He had never been on a boat before, let alone a ship in the middle of the sea so this presented itself to be the perfect opportunity to finally feed his wonder.

 

The deck was to his predicament mostly filled with crewmen doing last minute touch-ups. There are some couples by the iron barricades pointing at the last hints of their town with hushed voices and beaming smiles. Mark doesn’t pay them any consideration as he makes his way to what he hopes is the tip of the ship.

 

Arriving at his desired destination, he gets greeted by a sight that makes his heart freeze up like a lake in the midst of the December cold. His feet start moving before his brain could register his movements as adrenaline courses through his veins.

 

‘’Don’t do it!’’ Mark desperately pants as his heart pumps boldly in his chest. His sweat-covered hands reach out to the figure leaning down over the ship rail to pull them towards his body resulting in a collision that makes the both of them stumble down falling on the wooden deck floor.

 

‘’What in God’s name are you doing?’’ the figure, a boy no older than Mark’s age bites out with a grimace as he rubs his knees clean from the microscopic dirt.

 

Mark takes a moment to reply as he collects himself from the fall. ‘’I saved your life,’’ he says, carefully.

 

‘’Saved my life?’’ the boy parrots. ‘’My life does not need any saving, stranger.’’

 

‘’You were hanging over the railing,’’ Mark deadpans. Embarrassment starts collecting inside his chest, replacing the panic that was present sheer seconds ago.

 

A prickling silence falls over their side of the deck before the boy burst out in laughter that resembles a melody in Mark’s ears. He laughs with his head thrown back and arms curled around his torso carelessly as his eyes are squeezed shut as if there was no care in the world.

 

As the laughter drags out, Mark takes the time to observe him. His clothes are (just like most of the ship) tailored neatly against his body shape. He is dressed in a navy blue elaborate suit with thin silver stripes and a matching blue thin tie.  Mark can only assume he belongs to the first class division from his suit alone.

 

But his suit isn’t the only thing that stands out. The lack of wrinkles, spots or flaws on his skin further proves his elegance. There does not exist one single indication that this boy came from a home of struggle.

 

‘’I will allow you to enjoy your heroism for the time being,’’ the boy chuckles as his high pitched laughter tones down. He stands up with swift, elegant motions from their tangled heap and offers his hand in Mark’s direction on the floor. ‘’But, I wasn’t trying to end my life. I enjoy living very much.’’

 

 

‘’What is your story?’’

 

They stood side by side next to the railings after the short misunderstanding with no words exchanged between them for longer than Mark has ever found himself next to a stranger. The bubbling waves of the sea and the overbearing engines below them were the only things that filled the surprisingly comfortable silence with life.

 

By some reason, none of them had made an attempt to leave their place. Both of them had found comfort in watching the boat near the horizon for each second that passes.

 

‘’What do you mean?’’ Mark asks when the boy (he really oughta ask for his name soon) breaks the stillness of their small bubble.

 

‘’Where do you come from? Why did you end up on this ship?  _How_ did you end up in this ship?’’ the questions come in an uninterrupted string. His tone hides no evil or degrading intentions. He sounds simply curious.

 

Mark shrugs. ‘’Walked past Park’s pub by the corner of Fifth and Seventh this morning. Some sailor was waving one lone ticket to the  _Titanic_ for the price of a game. The person who defeats him gets to keep the ticket. I watched an endless row of old men struggling their way through countless games — poker, blackjack, you name it, for hours. Therefore, I decided to give it a shot and well — here I am.’’

 

The boy seems stunned by the story. His eyes are blown up in a surprised fashion, but a smile lingers cautiously on his lips. ‘’That is very admirable of you. Perhaps you can show me just how adequate you are someday.’’

 

‘’Perhaps I can,’’ Mark confirms with a smile of his own. ‘’What about your story?’’

 

‘’Nowhere near as interesting as yours. That I can guarantee,’’ the boy personally confirms. His eyes seek Mark’s from his left side and brushes his shoulder against Mark’s without any strength. ‘’Rich boy from an even richer family. It was only expected of us to join this cruise. You know, noblemen and their constant competition to be the most glorious of them all.’’

 

‘’Would I happen to know your family?’’ Mark squints his eyes to focus clearer on the boy’s face. He doesn’t seem recognizable but Mark has never been interested enough to read the pages regarding the noblemen in the newspapers he sometimes sold.

 

‘’I’m Donghyuck,’’ the boy smiles and places his hand in the small area in the middle of their bodies. ‘’Son of Chief of State, Seo Youngho.’’

 

Mark grabs a hold of his hand in a firm, yet delicate handshake. A handshake often symbolizes a newfound union or an agreement and for some unknown reason, Mark feels like this is a fresh promise to something unfamiliar to him.  ‘’Mark Lee, son of well — nobody.’’

 

—

 

The third class dining area is similar to the rest of the third class vicinities, bland. There are rows of square stark tables with four to eight seats on each of them. During the evening, most of these tables are filled to the brim with families and friends all enjoying their first proper meal aboard the ship. Loud chatter about every subject between the sky and the ground filled with dining room with sparks of life and a sense of home that Mark has never felt.

 

Speaking of Mark, he had managed to find a seat on an empty table at the corner of the room by the exit. The table officially earned its reputation as  _his_ own, even if there was no arranged seating. Mark found pleasure in that, the fact that he often felt a knock by his back as people walked by his table to either enter or exit the room notwithstanding.

 

His happiness was short-lived as a tray of food slams into the seat in front of his.

 

‘’Good evening, mind if a join you?’’

 

Mark looks up from his own tray of food only to be greeted by an eye smile that sparkles like lightning bolts. He quirks an eyebrow at him and waves his hands above the table as he finishes chewing his piece of bread. ‘’Why don’t you?’’

 

‘’The name is Jeno. I came on this ship as a journalist to report the insight of the journey,’’ Jeno says when both their plates are filled with nothing but barely existent breadcrumbs and splashes of brown gravy that didn’t make it above their mashed potato.

 

‘’Pleasure,’’ Mark nods and introduces himself as well.

 

Turns out Jeno is only a couple months younger than Mark, lives on the east side of their city with his three cats and roommate. He was nothing but a pleasant company and Mark constantly felt lucky about the fact that the stumbled upon each other over their dinner. You get lonely in a limited area surrounded by lovebird couples and content families, after all.

 

 

“If only we could somehow sneak our way into the first class bar,” Jeno trails off during their short walk on the brightly lit promenade. It bears even fewer people now than his visit prior to his dinner where he met Donghyuck. “I heard there is going to be live music and dancing. I would love to report on it.”

 

“I’m sure we can creep our way in somehow,” Mark says, mischievously. His shoes echo in the air, breaking the rhythm of the loud waves.

 

“With clothing similar to yours? I don’t think that’s likely,” Jeno retaliates. He gives Mark a quick overview before grabbing his hand to clumsily drag him alongside with him.

 

 

They end up in Jeno’s cabin that is located on the same floor as Mark’s, just a short distance further away. Their cabins are identical, save for a luggage bag placed on top of the lower bunk bed. It’s still open from his earlier change of clothing Jeno explains as he throws a fitted pair of black pants and a white dress shirt in Mark’s direction.

 

“Wear those, for the time being. We seem to be the same size.”

 

Mark shakes his head and tries to throw back the clothing in Jeno’s direction. There’s nothing he distastes more than being in debt to anyone. Jeno doesn’t allow him to argue as he shoots him a look as murderous as one of the coldblooded killers’.

 

“I’m in debt to you,” Mark starts off but Jeno’s makes a noise of dislike. For a second appreciation and relief fills Mark’s body because he doubts he can collect enough money to repay Jeno for the duration of their stay here.

 

Silently, Jeno turns around to allow Mark to undress in a hurry. Mark pulls off his stained loose brown pants that have collected several rips throughout the years, followed by his matching shirt that looks just as torn. He folds them messily and proceeds to pull Jeno’s pants up his legs. The instance they are on, he feels weirder than he has for his entire life. He has never felt this closed in by clothes, and that feeling only ten folds when he buttons up the dress-shirt.

 

“Looking well-groomed, my friend!” Jeno excitedly gushes as he lands his eyes on Mark’s new form. He stands up from his seat at the bed and walks up to the middle of the room, where Mark is standing. “Final touches,” he murmurs to himself and advances to lick his palm only to run the spit covered hand down Mark’s ruffled black hair. The hair strands lay down somewhat tamely by the time he is done.

 

—

 

The first class feels like an entirely different world from the third class despite them being on the same ship. The first class was draped in gold, diamonds and art pieces the price of a small village. In the midst of all the gold and diamond pearls peeked red velvet walls and furniture such as sofas, curtains, table cloths etcetera. It is unlike anything Mark has ever laid his eyes on.

 

Jeno has managed to lure their way into the third class with his charming smile and personality. He managed to switch his accent long and thick enough for the door guard to allow them in as if they were the children of the mayor of a made-up village Jeno had created.

 

“This is breathtakingly stunning,” Mark whispers as his fingers touch the golden railing of the imperial staircase leading down to the dining area of the third class. Soft piano and violin fill the area, unlike their own dinner that consisted of loud chatter and the now familiar buzzing of the engines.

 

The dinner seems to wrap up because some pairs have chosen to take the small dance floor area to move alongside the melody drifting in the air. Ladies with gleaming gowns that drape behind them dance gracefully in the hands of men in sharp tuxedos, all while sporting small smiles.

 

By the time they make their way down the stairs, the small orchestra at the back of the room had moved on to a more lively symphony. More and more people are making their way to the dancefloor by the minute, all wanting to let their stress and worries from back home wash off their body.

 

“Let us find an empty table since I take it you are not one for dancing?” Jeno asks with a crooked eyebrow.

 

Mark snorts but the clueless smile on his face sells him off. “Is it that obvious to tell that I have never engaged in  _Waltz_ before?”

 

“Perhaps not,” Jeno chuckles. “You just confirmed my suspicions.”

 

Their harmless jokes reach an ending when someone suddenly taps Mark’s shoulder moments after they found an open table. Mark darts his eyes from Jeno’s into two familiar brown eyes that he had looked into mare hours ago. ‘’Mark?’’

 

‘’Donghyuck,’’ Mark addresses with a little nod. Fear ignites in him as he knows certain about the possibilities that Donghyuck could easily reveal his real identity to someone of power. The thought of being dragged out head first with every curious eye of the room on him leaves a sour taste at the end of his tongue.

 

The sour taste does not last for long as Mark takes Donghyuck in. He has changed his clothing from the navy blue suit into a sleek black tuxedo. His wavy hair is slightly parted in the middle, revealing a hint of caramel skin.

 

Possibly it lies in the dimly lit room or the small amount of alcohol rushing inside Mark’s blood but for some reason, Donghyuck looks even more alluring than he did out and about in the sunlight.

 

‘’I cannot say I don’t feel surprised to see you here,’’ Donghyuck grins. ‘’But I feel very pleased regarding the fact that you are. You look different,’’ his eyes travel down Mark’s body shamelessly, ‘’Marvelously different.’’

 

‘’Likewise,’’ Mark breaths out and introduces Jeno and Donghyuck to each other. The conversation is kept simple and plain and whilst it’s a conversation that is easy to follow along with, Mark finds it impossible to focus on the words exchanged.

 

Despite being surrounded by what Mark assumes is an atmosphere he is very common with, Donghyuck looks very rigid. There’s no doubt that he is trying to conceal it by smiling and nodding along with the conversations but his shoulders are tensed up in a way unlike what Mark witness back on the deck. There’s also his eyes that keep slipping to a direction behind him in what can only be taken as nervousness.

 

‘’Donghyuck, are you alright?’’ Mark asks the second Jeno excuses himself from their place for a refill.

 

‘’Why wouldn’t I be?’’ Donghyuck answers suspiciously quick. He brings his nearly clear champagne glass to his lips and drowns the content in one go.

 

Mark carefully thinks of his next move. They are nothing but insignificant strangers to each other. Two people aboard the same ship for two weeks. There’s nothing that can justify why Mark feels worry floating inside his veins the deeper they get into the night.

 

‘’I suppose that is true,’’ Mark throws his earlier question into the thick air and watches it drift with the smoke through the many windows opened at an ajar to let out the cigar smoke.

 

Donghyuck shoots him a look he cannot phantom to decipher. The look gets broken when the music slows down to a lower, stretched out symphony from just the piano. It’s a sad tune, resembling a bruising heart and empty promises.

 

‘’My grandmother announced over dinner that they are on the search for a wife,’’ Donghyuck suddenly breaths out with a low broken voice. It barely reaches Mark’s attention, let alone anyone else’s as they are too busy dancing the night away. ‘’A wife for me.’’

 

‘’You don’t seem all that pleased,’’ Mark finds himself stating, ignoring the unexpected snap inside his chest.

 

Donghyuck chuckles sadly. ‘’You are observant.’’

 

‘’How come? Isn’t that every bachelor's dream?’’

 

“Call me foolish or even preposterous but I want to wed for love,” Donghyuck relocates his eyes somewhere far away from Mark’s.  He takes a deep moment to himself as if he is considering his next words with the uttermost carefulness. “I cannot — would not be able to love no wife of mine.”

 

Beneath Donghyuck’s answer lies a truth that is hidden from the world, Mark resonates. He wouldn’t dare to try his luck in further question the boy, not when he had already overshared something as private as this.

 

“That is quite alright, Donghyuck. You deserve to live and choose your own life without anyone forcing you to play a part you cannot act for,” Mark says in an attempt to calm him down. He goes as far as putting on a kind smile that stretches out on the outer corners of his lips.

 

Donghyuck shoots his eyes back at Mark at instant speed. Inside of them presents a battle of confusion and wonder mixed with alleviation. The gravity in the room seems to experience a malfunction as Donghyuck’s hand lands agitatedly slow on top of Mark’s on the table. It’s brief and hesitant but it sparks something resembling a Christmas candlelight between them. They share a long gaze that travels the warmth and glow between them in the midst of the dinner party right there inside of the first class dining area.

 

“Oh, how I wish life was as easy as those words, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck heaves out.

 

The moment gets pushed aside as Jeno returns to the table with three freshly poured glasses of liquor which they drown without a moment of hesitation.

 

—

 

“How do you know Donghyuck?” Jeno asks the second morning of their trip. They had just received their breakfast that consists of fresh bread, butter and a hint of marmalade. And two cups of newly brewed coffee, of course.

 

“We met out on the deck yesterday due to a short misunderstanding,” Mark explains as he wipes his mouth clean from the breadcrumbs that have collected around the corners of his lips.

 

Jeno makes a noise resembling a hum. “I was wondering where a homeless boy such as yourself might stumble upon the son of Seo Youngho, that’s all.”

 

“Believe me, I did not know of his existence twenty-four hours ago. I cannot recall hearing anything about a son on the radio nor the paper.”

 

“As far as my knowledge goes, Donghyuck does not engage in politics yet. He seems to live a normal life hidden from the eye of the public,” Jeno thoughtfully says.

 

The steward that helped Mark locate his cabin yesterday morning interrupts their conversation with a cough to ask if they would enjoy a refill. He is still wearing the same formal attire as yesterday, except in a soft beige color that compliments his skin very nicely. This time around, there’s a small name tag that has the name  _Renjun_ carved into it right above the right side of his chest. Mark greets him with a smile and a confirmation.

 

‘’I’m glad you are making friends,’’ Renjun kindly speaks while pouring a new batch of coffee in his ceramic white coffee-stained mug.

 

Jeno could hardly pass as a friend yet, but the sentence makes Mark erupt in a short laugh. Jeno seems just as pleased about the observation, if not more so judging by the grin plastered on his lips.

 

‘’I’m a phenomenal company, if I do say so myself,’’ Jeno bluntly states as the steward pours coffee in his mug as well.

 

‘’I can only imagine,’’ Renjun tries to suppress his laughter but fails to do so. A peach-colored sheen lies on top of his cheeks as he asks his next question. ‘’I take it you will attend the third class party this evening?’’

 

‘’I wasn't aware of said party,’’ Jeno says in a surprised tone. He takes a sip of his coffee and sighs out in satisfactory with his eyes on Renjun. ‘’We will attend. That’s a certainty.’’

 

—

 

The third class party is vastly different from the one they had the pleasure of attending the night prior. There was leftover food all over the tables, half-full glasses of different drinks that mostly tasted like gasoline and music loud enough to wake up the dead. Most of the attendees were up located on the floor between the tables, dancing along with the folk music with movements so fleet no eye would be able to catch. There was laughter also, and unfiltered happiness that Mark suddenly realized was lacking in the first class party.

 

Jeno was in the middle of his fifth glass of liquor when he decided to ask Renjun for a dance. Their dance consisted less of dancing and more of spinning around in circles, but the glow on top of their skin proved that they couldn’t care less about the matter.

 

Mark found himself staring at them with newfound fondness. Temporary happiness was a recurrence during his whole life. He was never the one to stay bound to one place or one person because the way his life was set up, but for the time being he allows himself to drown in the embrace of his newfound friendships while it lasts.

 

‘’I don’t think I’ve ever heard music this loud before in my entire life,’’ a voice startles him from his daydreams.

 

Mark looks up in curiosity and blinks at the sight twice. ‘’Donghyuck?’’

 

‘’It’s me,’’ Donghyuck brightly smiles and settles down right next to him on the bench he was currently occupying. The bench is on the smaller side which results in their thighs brushing against each other briefly, like the hint of a breeze.

 

Donghyuck looks out of place in the midst of the third class passengers. Hell, he even looks far out of place in the middle of the low-end furniture with his grey suit and dark perfume. The image resembles the first small ray of sunshine that invades the deep clouds after a long era of rain and thunder.

 

‘’What are you doing here?’’ Mark asks. It reminds him of the night prior. Donghyuck must have felt just as transfixed to see him there in such an unexpected place.

 

‘’Well,’’ Donghyuck begins with a smile slowly creeping across his face, ‘’You saw how I lived the night prior, so I decided to experience your life tonight.’’

 

Mark rose an eyebrow. ‘’Are you sure that is okay?’’

 

‘’I’m the son of the Chief of State, Mark. Everything I say and want is okay,’’ Donghyuck says, definitely.

 

Mark gives him one final moment to reconsider, but when Donghyuck’s eyes never lose their glint of wonder and excitement — Mark opts to grab his hand and lead him to the middle of the dancefloor where hundreds of bodies are all dancing to some lone crazy sounding tune.

 

Not knowing how to dance, Mark takes the Jeno and Renjun route and spins Donghyuck all around him. They quickly settle into a rhythm of laughter, spinning and panting for air.

 

Despite the pressure of the air swirling around him, Mark forces himself to remain with his eyes open just so he can never lose sight of the smile on Donghyuck’s face. Their movements have made his hair slightly lose the proper shape it was in, resulting in soft hair strands often falling down on his twinkling eyes.

 

Mark knew many musicians. They were aligned with them back in the streets he walked on day in and day out while trying to make a living. Violins, guitars, trumpets — Mark has heard it all. Despite that, the laughter that left Donghyuck’s lips was by far the most ethereal melody that has ever invaded his senses.

 

He was hooked, like a fish on a fishing line except that for some wild reason, it did not hurt one bit.

 

‘’Is this what you call dancing?’’ Donghyuck pants as the song slow down to something slightly less.. chaotic. His hands are still wrapped around Mark’s shoulders loosely.

 

‘’I must admit that this is foreign to me as well,’’ Mark laughs. He brings his palm to his forehead to dab off any sweat that has gathered around his temple and forehead.

 

Donghyuck throws his head back in laughter. He tightens his hands around Mark’s shoulders ever so slightly, but instead of leaving him uncomfortable, Mark finds himself leaning into the touch. Craving it too, for some reason.

 

‘’You are different, Mark Lee,’’ Donghyuck suddenly speaks quietly. It feels too serious for the time being, the smile that is starting to flatter on his lips confirms Mark’s suspicions as well. ‘’Far different from any person I have ever met before. You managed to grasp my undivided attention.’’

 

‘’You hardly know me,’’ Mark finds himself saying, without truly meaning it.

 

Donghyuck drops his hands from their place on top of his shoulders. He doesn’t look displeased of his answer, rather as if he had expected something of the sort. ‘’So help me get to know you, then.’’

 

 

They take their conversation to the deck, a place both of them were familiar with. They walk and walk until the music because nothing but a thin sound covered by the sound of the water crashing into the unbreakable ship and the sound of the roaring air. With each hand on the railings, they share small anecdotes about their lives and childhoods — both vastly different in every way possible.

 

‘’What do you do for a living, Mark?’’ Donghyuck asks when the moon is hanging on top of the sky at its brightest.

 

‘’Everything you could possibly imagine,’’ Mark honestly says. ‘’Whatever I can land my hands on. Sometimes I sell newspapers, other times I sell old toys, most times I draw. It depends on where I am currently finding habitat in.’’

 

Donghyuck hums understandingly. ‘’Does this life make you happy?’’

 

‘’Truthfully, I don’t know,’’ Mark murmurs after a long time. He runs his hands through his hair whilst in deep thought. ‘’I live day by day without a guarantee. So far, it has kept me alive, I suppose. Don’t misunderstand me, I enjoy being everywhere, you get to view things you usually wouldn’t be able to experience otherwise. You earn several perspectives about living. Being locked up in one single place limits you. But, there's always that uncertainty that keeps you in fear.’’

 

‘’Being as free as you must feel very satisfying,’’ Donghyuck nods, mostly to himself. His voice seems distant as if his body was in the conversation but his mind was somewhere else.

 

Mark raises an eyebrow. “You are the richest man here, Donghyuck. How are you not free? You could snap your fingers and have all the riches one could dream about laid out for you. You can arguably buy your freedom.”

 

Donghyuck takes a deep breath and shoots him a smile that shows nothing but pure sadness. ‘’Freedom is nothing but an illusion. You could be as rich as a troll but have something of a chain wrapped around your neck, whether it is responsibilities or such that limits you. Freedom isn't bound to riches, it’s bound to your mind and soul.’’

 

A calm stretches out between them as Mark takes Donghyuck’s words in. Mark can’t help but observe him as he leans his head back, exposing his sweat glistening neck to the open sea. Donghyuck parts his lips in what Mark assumes is a way to continue on the conversation but lets them fall shut with a sigh.

 

‘’You said that you draw?’’ Donghyuck changes the subject with his eyes closed.

 

‘’I sure do,’’ Mark confirms with a nod as if Donghyuck would be able to see it.

 

‘’Show me tomorrow,’’ Donghyuck finally turns his attention back to Mark’s direction.  His eyes are flashing in a desperate manner. ‘’My parents and grandmother leave for their smoke break at 5 PM, we should have more than enough time for some privacy. I live in Cabin A4. Please come over.’’

 

Mark stares at Donghyuck’s hopeful expression, and that’s all that takes.

 

—

 

‘’It isn’t much, but I managed to convince my parents to book me my very own cabin,’’ Donghyuck states with a grin as he makes room for Mark to enter his temporary room.

 

‘Isn’t much’ is also the most extravagant room Mark has ever laid his eyes on. There’s a twin bed in the left corner of the room with wine red and golden sheets decorating it. The mattress is half of Mark’s height, and it looks so utterly soft that he has to hold himself back from jumping above it.

 

The bed is far from the most lavish thing in the room. There’s a small fireplace placed right in the middle of the widest wall of the room. In front of the fireplace is a loveseat that has an equivalent color scheme as the bed, reasonably the most eye-catching subject inside the room. Lastly is one round table placed by the other end of the room with three chairs surrounding it. On top of the table lies a stack of lone papers and some slender charcoal pencils.

 

“I managed to land my hands on these. I hope they will be enough,” Donghyuck explains when Mark starts running his fingers down the stack of off-white papers.

 

“More than enough,” Mark confirms.

 

“Very well. Please take a seat by the table, I will shortly join you,” Donghyuck says with a coy smile and walks into the en-suite, leaving Mark completely alone.

 

While Donghyuck is gone, Mark takes the time to get ready. He stretches out his limbs by flexing his arms all around his body like a bird caught up in harsh winds. The realization that his behavior must seem so childish dawns to him, so he abruptly stops and proceeds to take a seat.

 

The papers seem of good material, far unlike any he has ever touched before. The thin papers card through his fingers like linen and Mark just can’t help but wonder where Donghyuck managed to get his hands on them. Don’t get him twisted, he isn’t surprised, more like awed in the capability of the young noble boy.

 

A quiet  _click c_ oming from the door gathers his attention. He shoots his head up to the specific direction. The sight, well the sight leaves him goddamn breathless.

 

It’s Donghyuck leaning against the trim of the door with nothing but a thin satin golden robe and a shy smile. The robe is sticking to his body delicately, but at the same time, it falls on top of his skin like a waterfall. There’s a barely noticeable belt of the same material holding it close but when Donghyuck notices that Mark is eyeing him, his fingers start flirting with the loose knot of it. His fingers continue on pulling the knot until he is standing right in front of the loveseat. As he drops down on the soft furniture, his robe falls down with him as well.

 

“How do you want me?” Donghyuck sheepishly inquires. From his place on the loveseat, the golden rays of sundown peeking through the cabin window manage to land right on top of the skin of his now exposed collarbones up until the skin above his cheekbones.

 

“Uh,” Mark swallows. “Face me with your legs on top of the loveseat. Chin slightly pointing downwards. You can decide if you want your eyes open or closed, just as long as you face me.”

 

Donghyuck takes the acquired position swiftly. His gaze lands heavy on Mark as he flatters his smile into a plump pout. “Facing you for hours won’t be a problem, Mark Lee,” he whispers.

 

 

Drawing Donghyuck quickly presented itself to be the most challenging task Mark has ever done. Not because he was a difficult art piece, quite the opposite — Donghyuck was a masterpiece far out of Mark’s expertise.

 

No stroke of his pencil seemed to do justice to the curves of Donghyuck’s body, to the slope of his nose or the small moles scattered graciously all over his body. His body must have been crafted by the Lord because no human being will ever be able to recreate such delicacy, Mark continuously thinks as he is doing just that. Trying to recreate said delicacy.

 

Donghyuck is patient. His eyes never leave Mark’s as he observes Mark observe him. No matter how long the clock ticks behind them, Donghyuck continues on sporting the same lidded eye look and slightly parted lips that show a hint of teeth peeking through, all in effort to make Mark’s task easier for him.

 

It goes fairly well until Mark reaches the part of his body that is covered with just the robe that is pooling lazily around his waist. Mark curses the blush that is deepening on top of his cheeks that he knows Donghyuck will easily spot by now. Thankfully he never mentions it, but it’s obvious that he has taken a note of it because his lips twitch for the first time in something resembling a smile.

 

Mark has drawn endless of models, nudes even but he has never witnessed such luscious thighs. They remind him of a morph of butterscotch, honey, and thick syrup. They are spotless, no hints of labor or strain on them — just pure gold. Mark catches himself just in time before he licks his lips in dehydration, or lust — the lines are blurry inside his mind.

 

“Alright. We are done.”

 

Donghyuck jumps off of his seat and strides to Mark’s spot while wrapping the robe around his body (regretfully). His limbs must be stiff by lying in the same uncomfortable position for such an extended amount of time, but he shows no signs of it.

 

“Mark,” Donghyuck gasps out, loud. His hands reach out to the drawing hesitantly, as if it was a treasure you must handle with care. “This is.. this is truly remarkable.”

 

“Please, you are too kind. This is nowhere near remarkable,” Mark quickly shuts down while scratching his neck in apparent embarrassment.

 

Donghyuck makes a sound of disapproval and puts his warm hand right below Mark’s chin. He lifts it up until Mark is forced to lock eyes with his standing figure. “It’s the most ravishing piece of art I have ever laid my eyes on, and I’ve viewed art for as long as I can remember. You have a gift, Mark.”

 

“Or maybe I just had an outstanding model,” Mark says rapidly before thinking.

 

The hand under his chin feels unexpectedly heavy, suddenly loaded with tension. It never flatters, and Donghyuck gives him a look that reminds him of the candlelight between them back at the party. Mark doesn’t know what it indicates, but he has always been a curious fellow — this no different.

 

“I can’t figure you out,” Donghyuck whispers smoothly. “Mark Lee, what exactly are you doing to me?”

 

“I would like to imagine that what I’m doing to you is the same as what you are doing to do me but I’m not certain,” Mark hesitantly says. Something inside of him screams the answer to him, but he shuts it down. He slowly rises up from his seat instead until they are standing face to face, with Donghyuck’s hand still under his chin. “I would like to discover it though.”

 

Donghyuck takes a small step forward until they are chest to chest. The table digs against Mark’s thigh as he takes a step back. The hand that isn’t below his chin rests against the edge of the table, as a way to cave Mark in.

 

“We have ten whole days to figure it out. In the meanwhile..” Donghyuck’s voice drops an octave, words still no louder than a small murmur. His eyes land on Mark’s lips as he speaks, slowly.

 

A knock on the door pulls them away from each other as if they had just been showered in burning lava. “Donghyuck, son?”

 

“Yes, father?” Donghyuck voice cracks, so he repeats the words with a steadier voice.

 

The door pulls open, revealing a face Mark has seen many times before. Not in person, but printed in ink on many newspapers throughout his life.

 

“I was just wondering what took you so—, who’s this?” The man, Mr. Seo suddenly shoots Mark a questionable look.

 

“Father,” Donghyuck says and stands between the two men, in the middle of the room. “This is—“

 

“My name is Mark Lee, sir. I’m an artist employed on board on the ship and I came to draw your son. My work here was just done, sir,” Mark bows with a panicked mind. He hopes his internal battle isn’t exposed to the Chief of State, let alone his life-threatening lie.

 

“Oh,” Mr. Seo claps his hands once in amusement. “Why didn’t you just say so, here I was thinking you were stuck in the engines,” he jokes as he turns to Donghyuck,  that clearly looks uncomfortable.

 

“Very well, it was a pleasure meeting you, sir,” Mark bows again and makes an attempt to leave the room, before Donghyuck grabs a hold of his wrist.

 

“I haven’t paid you for your service,  _sir_ ,” Donghyuck pointedly says, disappointment clearly shown in his features over Mark’s course of actions.

 

“I wouldn’t dare to receive payment from you, sir,” Mark tries to let his wrist lose, but Donghyuck just tightens the hold around his wrist.

 

“My father always told me to earn what I receive, not freely accept what is handed to me,” Donghyuck sternly looks into Mark’s eyes, as if to convey him to bring down his guard.

 

“That is indeed true,” Mr. Seo suddenly speaks. He walks up to the two boy obviously and hands out a twenty in Mark’s direction. “Thank you, child, I’m sure you did a wonderful job.”

 

Mark stares at the money, and back at Donghyuck in disbelief. He feels humiliation rise inside of him because of the situation. The thought of taking something from Donghyuck when he has already given him a gift far more valuable than money was enough reason for him to take a step back and shake his head to decline.

 

Donghyuck steps up in the scene again. “Father, money is far too invaluable for Mark’s talents. Perhaps he should invite him over for dinner, as a way to properly thank him? You’ve always enjoyed art, haven’t you? Mark could conversate with you all night about the subject.”

 

“What a grand idea,” Mr. Seo cheers. “You seem like a proper knowledgeable young man, we would love to have you join us.”

 

—

 

‘’Have you lost your goddamn marbles?’’ Jeno spits out as Mark fills him in on the current events. They were currently squeezed between the hallway out to the deck and the hallway leading to the elevator lobby.

 

‘’There was nothing I could do, I promise,’’ Mark hopelessly heaves out, hands flying all over the air surrounding him in agony.

 

Jeno rubs his chin, eyes furrowed in thought. He pulls Mark closer to his body until no passengers would be able to pick up on his words. ‘’I think I might have a solution. Wait in your cabin until you hear three knocks in a row, I shall return.’’

 

He disappears around the corner before Mark could demand an explanation.

 

 

‘’I could lose my job,’’ Renjun runs his hands through his hair, but unlike Jeno that is still furrowing his eyebrows by the entrance of the cabin, he doesn’t seem displeased. In his hands is an embellished tailored black suit with matching dress shoes that shine under the illuminating cabin lights.

 

Mark reaches out for the suit. ‘’Where did you get this?’’

 

‘’I found it in the dry cleaners. Seem like rich men have endless suits, to my  _uttermost_ surprise. I doubt they will notice one being gone for the night, but make sure that you return it before sunrise. Just in case,’’ Renjun replies with a casual shrug.

 

Mark makes him a wholehearted promise before he pulls the suit on top of his body. There are only twenty minutes left before the first class dinner to be served, and he would hate to be late to what seems to be the most important dinner of his life.

 

By the time he has his suit jacket on, the grim look on Jeno’s facial features morphs into one of pride and hidden amusement.

 

—

 

The first class is just as Mark remembers it, if not more majestic. The three passing days has made his memories turn rather cloudy, and the alcohol that invaded his brain acted as no help either — but he could never forget the elegant colors and statues aligned the hallways. Neither would he ever be able to wipe out the memories of the large  _Monet_ paintings that tie the entire scene together beautifully.

 

There was a difference this time around, however. This time around, Mark blended in like a chameleon. Between his expensive (and stolen) suit and spotless shoes, he could pass as any noblemen he pleased to be. The discovery sure eased the pressure on his shoulders, especially since nobody knew who he actually was except for Donghyuck. Even the guards seem to have forgotten his earlier adventures, and instead only greeted him with a small bow.

 

He could keep up the facade without Jeno’s help, that’s certain.

 

With faux confident steps, he walks down the grand wooden staircase with his eyes set on the last step. Some first class nobles pass him with rapid movement, sometimes he manages to earn himself a  _good evening sir_ , other times they pass him as if he was a ghost drifting through the wind.

 

‘’If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that you were born into this life.’’

 

Mark lifts his gaze up from the carpet on the stairs, only to be greeted by a sight that makes his heart crumble inside his chest. The feeling isn’t unpleasant, in fact, it’s a feeling he finds himself seeking ever since the first day outside on the deck. He rushes through the last steps until he is face to face with the subject of his latest daydreams and restless nights.

 

‘’Do I present myself well enough to fool a real nobleman?’’ Mark asks as a smile starts to form on his lips.

 

Donghyuck runs his hand through Mark’s arm slowly starting from his shoulder until his fingers grace against the slope of his knuckles. ‘’You look like the noblest — the most worthy human being that is currently on this ship, Mark Lee. With or without the suit.’’

 

Mark’s heart skips a beat as Donghyuck’s eyes find his own. The flame between them that was once on top of candlelight has evolved into one of the deep fires and oh how Mark wants to burn inside of it.

 

He wants to grab Donghyuck’s hand that is brushing against his. The temptation inside his chest is so powerful that it is ripping him apart but he knows that it’s simply not possible. Donghyuck’s life was far too different from his own. He was a nobleman, the son of the most important man in their country while Mark was one homeless boy out of millions. There is nothing in the world that Mark could offer Donghyuck, why would he ever go for someone such as himself?

 

Donghyuck snaps him out of his thoughts before they complicate any further. ‘’Let us join my family for dinner, shall we?’’

 

‘’Lead the way.’’

 

 

‘’Donghyuck tells us you are an artist?’’ Donghyuck’s grandmother, Lee Chaerin, inquiries as the waiter pours her a glass of white wine.

 

Mark swallows. He stares at the wrinkles on her forehead, since her eyes are too intimidating for him. ‘’Yes, ma’am.’’

 

In front of them lies several plates of ranked courses, Donghyuck had whispered in his ear as they had sat down. First to the fifth courses filled with shrimp, salmon from the coldest Atlantic seas and deserts Mark wouldn’t dare to try to pronounce. Everybody around the table seems in their zone as they pick out each item to eat first with the specifically sized utensils with experience. It’s all confusing, but Donghyuck shows him each step with discretion and a private smile.

 

She hums. ‘’What do your parents do, Mr. Lee?’’

 

Her sentence makes Mark flinch in his chair. He dabs off non-existent dirt of his lips before placing the smooth napkin next to his plate of fresh oysters (wait until the kids back home hear about the fact that he has tasted oysters). ‘’I’m an orphan, ma’am. Never knew my parents.’’

 

The news results in an awkwardly stretched out silence around the table. Someone, Mark thinks it’s Donghyuck’s mother, drops a fork on top of their plate, admitting a loud crash.

 

‘’An orphan, huh? My apologies,’’ Donghyuck’s grandmother says, without sounding one bit remorseful. She continues on with her first-course meal as if the prior conversation hadn’t occurred.

 

“Aren’t these oysters just lovely?’’ Mr. Seo asks when the silence becomes too loaded. His question pokes a hole into the heaviness of the atmosphere and the conversations spiral on from there.

 

Mr. Seo is everything the newspapers make him seem to be. He is a man with a great head on his shoulders, with a smile that can provide electricity for an entire building and with care for each individual he meets. Mark finds himself earning newfound respect for the official, despite never once caring about him before.

 

Something that is obvious is that Mark can see where Donghyuck has earned his kind, warm heart.

 

Donghyuck’s eyes never leave Mark’s throughout the dinner. There’s a glint to them far unlike any he has provided him before, and it leaves an uneasy feeling all the way to his fingertips. He wants to have just one moment of privacy with him, just so that he can ask him if there was anything he had done wrong.

 

‘’I cannot help but wonder, how does an orphan artist survive in these harsh streets?’’ Donghyuck’s grandmother expresses up again when they reach the desert. ‘’My Youngho has done a great job at maintaining this country, but there’s only as much one man can do.’’

 

‘’Well, ma’am,’’ Mark begins. ‘’To be frank with you, it isn’t always easy. There are many hungry and freezing nights that seem like they possess no end, but life isn’t regularly like that. There’s a beauty in the struggle as well, ma’am. Walking down countless streets in foreign cities, sharing memories with people far from home, drawing the smiles of strangers has virtue to it as well. If you put it all on the scale of life, I would like to imagine that the good outweighs the bad.’’

 

‘’That’s no way to live,’’ she says, firmly. ‘’Running around like a rascal is far from a sustainable life. You should focus on building a family — just like my little Donghyuck is doing, not running around doing God knows what. Your life is nothing but pointless.’’

 

Mark ducks his head in defeat. He feels a trickling feeling of shame inside his chest and almost excuses himself, but Donghyuck makes him halt in his motions.

 

‘’With all due respect,  _grandmother,_  what do you know about a sustainable life? You know nothing but marble flooring and rose perfume that leaves your neighbor featherbrained for hours. Mark has actually seen — he has experienced life,’’ Donghyuck spits out with venom lingering beneath his words.

 

His grandmother seems taken back at the sudden outburst, as well as the rest of the table — Mark included. Before she could provide him an answer, Donghyuck rises up from his place beside him on the table and grabs a hold of his arm. With no hesitation, he drags both of them out of the claustrophobic dinner.

 

 

“Stop, Donghyuck,” Mark pulls his wrist free when they finally reach a secluded part of the deck. There are no lights to shine the way and there hasn’t been an entrance leading inside of the ship in sight for the past ten minutes of their haste walking. “Where are we going?”

 

Donghyuck stands in front of him with his body turned away. His shoulders are curled up in such a tension-filled way that Mark almost reaches out in hopes of smoothing them out. Just as he is about to do a such, Donghyuck speaks up into the night.

 

“I’m deeply sorry, Mark,” he quietly whispers. His back is still facing Mark, but this time his face is slumped down as well. “She treated you horribly in there, I couldn’t stand being in that room for another minute.”

 

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” Mark says, with a small smile that goes unnoticed by Donghyuck. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did she.”

 

Donghyuck turns to him in the speed of light with a look of pure disbelief mixed with distaste. “Didn’t do anything wrong? She slandered you with all her mighty even if you acted as proper as you always do. I’m sick of it — sick of her.”

 

“It’s all in the past now,” Mark tries. The attempt feels very weak and quite frankly very apathetic but that’s all he can muster without breaking his own heart as well.

 

In the grand scheme of things, his grandmother had truly said nothing wrong. In the eyes of a nobleman, Mark was nothing but a pest. Inside Mr. Seo’s perfect country lied a plague that consisted of poor, homeless men and women that crowded his streets and Mark was certain that they would do anything to get rid of them — not actually get involved with them.

 

And Donghyuck? Well, Donghyuck has the blood of nobility running inside his veins. As much as he shares how much he doesn’t care about the riches, they are still a part of him, after all. He was raised in that life and no force can just pull him away from his destiny.

 

“ _Your_ situation is in the past, that is very correct,” Donghyuck harshly says. “But this is my ordinary life. I have to constantly follow her goddamn rules every single day. To eat, sleep, behave the exact way she expects me to without any objections,” he takes a deep, staggered breath. “Do you remember during our first meeting when I told you that I enjoy living?”

 

Mark nods with flattered breathing of his own, in fear of what the answer might be.

 

”Well,” Donghyuck smiles through his glossy eyes. ”I don’t. I don’t enjoy living at all.”

 

Mark feels a lump from inside his chest.  He curses himself for ever thinking that Donghyuck was just like the rest. That he ever doubted his unhappiness simply because he was born into money. How idiotical he had to assume that money was equal to honest happiness.

 

“How am I supposed to enjoy living if I don’t know how to? I have the most adequate academic education one could wish for but they never teach you how to live at school, do they? I would like to imagine living doesn’t only consist of staring at the same four walls day in and day out with the only communication being with maids and butlers that clean and feed you,” Donghyuck’s voice cracks into a whisper due to his frustration.

 

He walks up to Mark until they share the exact same breath with his eyes boring deep into his. His shaking hands grab a hold of Mark’s jacket tightly until his knuckles turn into a stark white collar.

 

“How about this — do you recall when I told you that my life doesn’t need saving?” A lone tear slips down the corner of Donghyuck’s eyes.

 

Mark hesitantly reaches out to Donghyuck’s hands and places his own on top of them. They shake under his fingertips, so he tries to soothe them by caressing them delicately. That day out on the deck seems like infinite light years away. Like it belonged in another alternate universe far, far away from their own. “I do.”

 

“The truth is, it did,” Donghyuck’s eyes flicker with something resembling hints of sunshine in the midst of a thunderstorm. “I was in desperate need of saving and just as you believed back then — you somehow managed to save me. Not at that moment, but eventually. You saved me by showing me that life has a purpose, Mark.”

 

Mark could answer him. He could tell him that it was quite the opposite truthfully. That Donghyuck was the one that has shown him a way of living he would never have dared to dream of otherwise. That Mark has offered him nothing in turn of what Donghyuck has constantly given him. But what do words mean, when actions have always had the upper hand in things.

 

Just as powerfully as the waves that crash against their grand ship, Mark crashes his lips against Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck responds right away with just as much gushing desperation. His hands that are gripping Mark’s jacket shoot up to his jaw, where they land gracefully. The touch leaves goosebumps all over Mark’s body, resulting in an almost full body shiver.

 

His hands that were wrapped around Donghyuck’s own moments ago lean down until they are placed around his slender waist instead. It doesn’t take a single ounce of struggle as he pushes his body closer to his own until they even share the same heartbeat.

 

Donghyuck’s lips taste the same as the luxurious wine they had earlier drunk. They taste tangy which is a juxtaposition from his satin soft lips. His lips are soft to the point where they almost slip out of his lips, like flower petals on a deep red rose.

 

When Mark gathers enough confidence to slip past the crevasse of his warm mouth with his own tongue, Donghyuck rewards him in the most sensual moan that shoots lightning bolts straight down Mark’s spine.

 

“You can not possibly fathom how much I truly want you,” Donghyuck purrs against his lips when the need for air takes over their senses. His spit slick lips brush against Mark’s for each word that gets spoken.

 

For some reason, the confession makes Mark’s heart soar inside his chest to the point where he fears that it will break out of his ribcage. His hand journey up Donghyuck’s body until they land on the flushed skin on Donghyuck’s eyes. When he flutters his eyes open, he finds Donghyuck’s already viewing him with unfiltered admiration.

 

“Donghyuck, you deserve so,  _so_ much more than a simple good-for-nothing orphan. I fear that I will never be able to give you what you truly deserve,’’ Mark admits with shame plastered on his facial features. This is the first time in his entire life that he feels truly ashamed of who he is as a person, the only time he desperately wants to hide inside himself.

 

Donghyuck shakes his head softly before he places a lingering kiss on Mark’s lips. “You give me hope. That is all I could ever ask for. You extend the need for diamonds, gold, and silk for me,” he kisses him again, longer this time, “ _You_ are worth it for me, just you. Please don’t ever doubt your worth in my eyes.”

 

The headlines that announced the existence of the  _Titanic_ described the ship continuously as unsinkable. While that might be true when applied to the ship, Mark found himself sinking deep into Donghyuck. He knew what this meant, he knew very well that he was falling deeply in love with the upperclassman, but some absurd part of his soul refused to walk away.

 

Mark wishes that he could reach out to the sky and collect every particle in the universe and lay it out in front of Donghyuck’s feet. He wishes he could shower him in the purest gold and authentic textile to prove his love but sadly he is unable to. For now, all he can do is prove his admiration by pouring out his love in lasting kisses and sweet nothings.

 

It should be enough. His love should be enough, but he can’t help but feel like it isn’t.

 

—

 

Sneaking around the ship was proven itself to be far from a struggle. Donghyuck found it necessary to push Mark inside every narrow hallway to steal a kiss or two, “ _just because he can_ ”. Not that Mark would ever decline, Donghyuck is as much of an addiction to him as air itself. And it becomes a great distraction from the burdening thoughts surrounding their situation. Their situation being their unmercifully class difference and Donghyuck’s grandmother that seems to want him to rot in hell for no reason at all.

 

Somehow, they managed to squeeze their way inside a very cramped up and very interesting smelling storage room that for some reason was completely empty — save for one lone pile of towels because they were too stubborn to bid each other good night. Not that that matters of course, because Donghyuck was currently too busy coaxing Mark’s mouth open with eager tongue, making them push all the thoughts about going to sleep aside.

 

Perhaps it was faulty cell inside his body, but the idea of getting caught in a place so wrong, doing something equally as indecent, pushed Mark to kiss Donghyuck harder, rougher. And maybe, just maybe Donghyuck shared the same faulty cell too because he was just as enthusiastic, if not even more so by being wrapped around Mark’s body in the middle of the most crowded area of the ship.

 

“Mark,” Donghyuck pants into his mouth between their open-mouthed kisses. “Do you think we can—“

 

Mark licks into his mouth, interrupting whatever Donghyuck wanted to ask of him because he is far too gone at this point.  Also because he still isn’t ready to give up on the feeling that is Donghyuck’s lips. “Yes, we can.”

 

Donghyuck chuckles and pulls himself off of Mark for a brief second. He looks around the room for a mere moment with a wrinkled nose. “In here?”

 

At this, Mark widens his eyes. He stares deeply into Donghyuck and feels the realization fall heavy into his chest. And his growing bulge as well. “Oh, you mean—?”

 

There’s a beat of silence that lays between them. A silence that contains a fast racing blush that spills on Mark’s features and a coy smile forming Donghyuck’s own. It shouldn’t be this comfortable to be around each other, not when they have only known one another for four days but here they are, discussing the most intimate action two humans can engage in. Freely.

 

“How about we continue this in my cabin tomorrow evening? It’s getting quite late,” Donghyuck says, with his finger slowly tracing the exposed (and sweaty) skin on Mark’s neck. “Unless of course, you prefer to do this in public? Which is fine by me, I’m not against exploring.”

 

It was getting quite late indeed. The clock had surpassed midnight long ago, and frankly, Mark felt the exhaustion from today’s events falling deep above him. The promise of getting  _more_ of Donghyuck tomorrow was already a promise worth rushing to sleep for, as much as he wants to lay awake all night with the boy in his arms.

 

Mark gives Donghyuck the final kiss of the night with a promise of seeing him tomorrow and proceeds to sneak down to the F-deck as discreetly as possible.

 

—

 

“Interesting night?”

 

There’s a cigar hanging loosely in the corner of Jeno’s lips, and Mark wonders just how he managed to secure it. Besides the cigar, there’s a smile twitching at the edges of his lips that scream cockiness.

 

It was lunchtime on board of the ship. The sound of waiters bringing out an unlimited amount of food and drinks, mixed with the sound of thousands of conversations from the surrounding tables has become a familiarity at this point. Today’s lunch was roasted beef, boiled potatoes, and brown gravy much to Mark’s delight.

 

He knows very well that Jeno is focusing on the blossoming love bite at the edge of his collarbone, leading up to his neck. For some odd reason, he doesn’t feel all that ashamed about it being exposed. Especially when knowing who was the reason behind it.

 

“You could say that,” Mark chuckles and takes a sip of his tall glass of water.

 

Jeno cackles with one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Are you meeting him today? Ere, why am I even asking? The two of you are inseparable.”

 

“I’m visiting his cabin in a couple of hours,” Mark flushes. He places down his utensils when he realizes that his plate was now completely empty of any food. The cup of water was still full, thankfully, because he was still somewhat hungry.

 

“Too bad, I miss our shenanigans if I’m being completely honest,” Jeno drags a long inhale from his cigar. The end of it lights up in bright orange due to his sharp inhale. Seconds later, there’s white, pushing to transparent, smoke clouding their table.

 

“There’s enough of me to go around, Lee Jeno,” Mark jokes and winks in emphasis. “Furthermore, don’t you have your own  _adventures_ to focus on for the time being?”

 

“Renjun is too busy being a proper steward, regretfully. Sometimes I can’t help but curse the fact that he has such a good head on his shoulders,” Jeno says with a shrug.

 

Mark takes a sip of his water. “Despite the fact that I never mentioned the mere existence of Renjun in my question, it’s good to know that my suspicions lie correctly.”

 

For the first time since Mark has met him, Jeno looks virtually embarrassed. He takes another silent drag from his cigar that is reaching it’s ending by this point. Suddenly, he bursts out in a deep chuckle. Mark feels taken back by the impromptu laughter, but for some reason, he finds himself joining in.

 

It must be the smoke that is affecting them.

 

“We are two whipped young gentlemen, are we not?” Jeno says and stubs the cigar dead on the already filled to the brim metal ashtray.

 

—

 

The day crawls by, slowly but surely. All Mark can think about — daydream about — is Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s lips, Donghyuck’s skin, Donghyuck’s body, just  _Donghyuck_.

 

He knows it’s unhealthy by this point to be this enamored by someone, but if Mark’s brain was weak, then his heart was even weaker. You cannot blame him, not when Donghyuck is the way he is and well... Mark is the way he is.

 

When the clock above the staircase leading up to the upper decks hits seven o’clock in the evening, Mark finds himself stumbling his way through the elevators and the long hallways to finally reach cabin A4. He has had more than enough of roaming around, waiting impatiently to get another taste of Donghyuck’s skin.

 

“Oh,” is the first thing Donghyuck manages to say when the wooden door opens up. And the only thing really, because Mark attaches his eager lips to Donghyuck’s not a heartbeat later.

 

“Missed you,” he manages to mumble between their drawn-out kisses. He receives a wordless chuckle that flies right into the deepest chambers of his heart.

 

Without the fear of being caught, nor the embarrassment of well... having intercourse in the middle of a crowded ship, Mark lets his hands fly wild. It is as if his hand get a life of their own as they start roaming around every curve of Donghyuck’s body that he has been craving to touch — to explore.

 

Somehow, unknown to Mark, Donghyuck has lead them from the entrance of the cabin all the way to his bed. Mark only notices when his back flops against the softest, most comfortable position he has ever found himself in. The impact, however, makes Mark snap his eyes open in surprise, which turns out to be the greatest decision he has ever taken.

 

Donghyuck is right above him, blocking his view from anything that isn’t him. There’s a small halo surrounding his head due to the dim ceiling lights surrounding the room. The image reminds Mark of his visits to the church from when he was young and was forced by the children’s home he lived in for a couple of years to attend the Sunday preach.

 

And while Mark has experienced many services in his life, nothing comes close to the spirituality of the sight he is currently viewing. Perhaps Donghyuck was an angel, and this whole trip was all a dream provided to him from the Lord himself. Or perhaps — just perhaps — Mark has been enough of a lawful, decent human being and this is God’s way of repaying him. Whatever it is, Mark is eternally grateful over the fact that he has gotten a chance to touch paradise while being on earth.

 

“For your information, I missed you too, my dearest,” Donghyuck smiles and leans down to steal a kiss, breaking him free from his small, internal monologue.

 

Mark ponders over the fact that it seems very certain that his heart will never stop racing each time Donghyuck as simply as looks at him with those eyes. Those doe, beautiful, secret-filled eyes.

 

They don’t engage in any further conversation. It doesn’t mean that the room is quiet, it’s far from that.

 

Mark learns, just like how the moles on Donghyuck’s chest taste or how his body arches when he kisses that specific part of his neck, that Donghyuck is a vocal lover. If there aren’t any incoherent words spilling out of his mouth, there’s broken moans or barely audible pants. Mark soaks them all up with pure delight and desire.

 

“Allow me,” Mark slowly turns them around so that Donghyuck is lying down comfortably on the bed with his back against the soft mattress. His heart clenches at the sight, and he finds himself in the same loophole as he has for the entire day where he just cannot fathom the fact that this is all  _his_.

 

“Do hurry, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck’s hands' search for his shoulders, in order to pull him down back into the open-mouthed kiss they were just deep into.

 

The invitation doesn’t go to deaf ears. With trembling hands, he reaches down to Donghyuck’s pants in order to free him completely.

 

“You are such a divine,” Mark finds himself muttering in awe. The words make not only Donghyuck flush all the way to his toes, but Mark as well.

 

“You aren’t so bad yourself,  _sir_ ,” Donghyuck smirks and lets his eyes travel down Mark’s body indiscreetly. His own soft hands (how can a person have such soft hands?) scratch his back, urging him on.

 

To squash their impatience shut, Mark finally wraps his hands around Donghyuck. Turbulence makes him stumble forward a bit, but he manages to resume to the task at hand with a short chuckle.

 

Donghyuck, well Donghyuck isn’t finding the humor in it as his eyes are squeezed shut while his lips are parted in silent moans. The turbulence continues shaking the room ever so slightly, and Mark catches a flowerpot crashing down on the floor at the corner of his eyes.

 

“Mark,” Donghyuck gasps and suddenly his own hands wrap around Mark and every single thought inside his brain closes down as Donghyuck lazily drags his hand down Mark’s length.

 

Mark buries his head in Donghyuck’s neck. Between his heavy panting, he gets a good lungful of Donghyuck’s scent. Due to his cloudy conscious, he isn’t able to pinpoint out what it resembles, all that he registers is that he absolutely is in love with it.

 

He can tell Donghyuck is close by the way his moans raise several octaves. He hands fly all around the bed in order to grasp anything to ground him. Feeling Donghyuck slowly unravel beneath him pushes Mark even closer to his own release because  _he_ is doing that to  _him._

 

Donghyuck repeats Mark’s name three times before he crashes down on the bed with a long drawn out moan. Mark forces himself to snap his eyes open in order to see what Donghyuck looks like completely blissed out. The sight — the sight makes him lose every bit of self-control as he bursts as well between their naked, sweaty bodies.

 

By the time their breathing returns to them, Donghyuck turns his head to the side to lazily kiss Mark. Between their kisses, they find themselves huffing small giggles. Mark reaches out to the damp hair on Donghyuck’s hair and wipes it away from his eyes.

 

“That was so wonderful,” Donghyuck smiles. His eyes have a glint unlike any Mark has seen before. He looks genuinely happy and at ease, with no worrying wrinkles on his forehead, nor the heavy tension on his shoulders. Mark wishes he could remain in this state forever.

 

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” Mark repeats his earlier words with a wink. Donghyuck grins at him and punches his exposed shoulder without any strength in retaliation.

 

As much as he wants to remain on the bed to do nothing but be wrapped around Donghyuck, the stickiness between them grew even more uncomfortable as time went on. He leaves the bed with regretful steps to gather a towel and some clothing for both of them.

 

As Mark is walking around the room, the turbulence only gets worse. A hint of worry starts forming inside his chest, but he figures that it’s just a storm passing by. The Atlantic seas have always been known to be rather animated.

 

“Come back here,” Donghyuck opens up his embrace from the bed with a hidden smile.

 

If Mark stumbles his way through the room to return back to the bed and accidentally bruises his hip by crashing against the loveseat — well, that’s his own business.

 

 

“We should head for dinner,” Donghyuck mumbles against his skin when they are all cleaned up and clothed. Mark agrees with a low hum but doesn’t make an attempt to rise out of the mattress. Instead, he lets his fingertips trace the moles on Donghyuck’s neck, leading up to his still flushed cheeks.

 

Suddenly, a loud knock erupts in the room. There’s loud undecipherable yelling coming from the hallway outside the room mixed with the turbulence that seems to get worse as time goes by, making both of them shoot up out of necessity clumsily.

 

Donghyuck shoots him a panicked look. Of course, if they were caught by his family both of them would get in deep trouble. Mark was nothing but an artist on the ship for them, and to find them here in this position might not be the most ideal of situations.

 

A loud knock. ”Mark, are you in here?”  Mark’s heart freezes up when he eventually recognizes the voice behind the door.

 

He rushes to open the door, and his suspicions are correct; It’s Jeno. Jeno with cold fear deep in his eyes. Mark doesn’t get a chance to ask him what is happening because Jeno steals the words out of his mouth.

 

”The goddamn ship is sinking, Mark. The  _Titanic_ is sinking.”

 

—

 

All Mark can register is weeping mothers holding onto their children, and angry fathers spitting out harsh profanities as they are rushing down the hallways. The ship crew is completely hysterical, unsurprisingly. But for some reason, Mark feels completely numb.

 

Every passenger in the ship is being directed to the deck, where lifeboats are expecting them. There was a chance of survival, Jeno had explained to them. The thought of a possible death hadn’t even occurred to Mark until Jeno had hastily said those exact words.

 

The turbulence grew stronger and harsher.  There was no chance of returning back to the lower decks because water had slowly started to fill up the ship, inch by inch. He doesn’t know if he is just imagining it, but he is relatively sure that the floor is slightly tilting more and more as time passes by.

 

“What happened?” Mark says when he finally finds his own voice. It’s weak and unrecognizable but Jeno seems to understand it.

 

“We crashed into an iceberg. The captain wasn’t even aware of its existence. The whole side of the ship is utterly ruined.”

 

“Are we going to die?” Donghyuck breaths. He is holding onto Mark as closely as he can because chances are he might buckle down falling if he so as to stand alone.

 

“You aren’t going to die,” Mark turns to him with a serious gaze. “I will make sure of it.”

 

Donghyuck spares him a long look, and finally nods silently. His grip on Mark’s hand tightens and they take off running to the deck.

 

 

The deck reminds Mark of the way the harbor had looked before the ship had departed. Crowded, loud and completely chaotic. The only difference — a very important difference — is the fact that instead of bright smiles and hopes for the future, most, if not all people here, are scared of what their fate might be. Out in the deck, it's clear to see where the Titanic had crashed, and where the water is currently gushing in. 

 

''I will search for my father, he will help us out. I'm sure we have our own lifeboat. We will be okay,'' Donghyuck cups Mark's cheeks in the middle of the crowd of people. ''We will be alright, Mark.'' 

 

''Donghyuck,'' Mark leans into the touch. ''After all of this is over, I promise you that I will show you the entire world. Perhaps not on a boat, though.'' 

 

Donghyuck smiles, but the terror in his eyes never leave. He nods, leans over to place a small kiss on his cheek and continues on dragging them through the mass in hopes of locating his father. 

 

The cries around them become tiring. It's just around midnight by this time, and the winds are very unforgiving. Mark feels the way Donghyuck shivers against him, but he finds solace in the fact that he had at least managed to grab a jacket before they left the cabin. 

 

''Have you seen Seo Youngho?'' Donghyuck asks around as they are squeezing their way between the thousands of people. Someone had just announced that lifeboats are starting to leave the ship. The first class gets to secure their leave first, obviously. 

 

A hand grabs a hold on Donghyuck's shoulder harshly, making their hands snap apart. ''Donghyuck?''

 

''Dad,'' Donghyuck cries out and wraps his arms tightly around his father. There are hundreds of people that are currently weeping around them, but for some reason, Donghyuck's loud sobs are the only ones that manage to completely break Mark's heart in half. 

 

''I'm so glad that you are alright,'' Mr. Seo returns the embrace, equally as desperately. ''I told your mother that we should've stayed at home instead,'' Mr. Seo manages to joke, but it sounds very dry. 

 

''Where is mom?'' Donghyuck asks when they break apart. He stretches out his neck to look around the deck, not that it helps because there is no way of recognizing anything in the midst of the dark chaos. 

 

''She is by our lifeboat, let us go,'' Mr. Seo grabs a hold of Donghyuck's hand and makes an attempt to pull him along, only to be greeted with resistance. He shoots him a questioning look that consists of raised eyebrows and a silent  _what's the matter?_

 

Donghyuck reaches out to Mark that is standing behind them, observing the scene quietly, in answer. His other free hand grasps hold of him once again. Mr. Seo darts his eyes down to their linked eyes, and realization slowly falls on his facial features. 

 

''Donghyuck,'' Mr. Seo starts off with a saddened voice. ''He is a third class passenger. There isn't enough place for all of them on the lifeboats.'' 

 

Mark feels ice run down his spine. As much as he has tried to repress it, panic slowly starts to form inside his chest, making him unable to properly breathe. Donghyuck looks the same, if not worse. 

 

''What do you mean?'' he slowly asks.

 

Mr. Seo runs a trembling hand through his hair. His eyes avert from Mark's face to a random direction. ''There's only lifeboats for half of the ship.'' 

 

''You are lying,'' Donghyuck spits out. He shakes his head frantically in denial. 

 

''I'm sorry, son,'' Mr. Seo whimpers, and looks apologetic and very — very awkward.  

 

Mark loosens his grip around Donghyuck and takes a step back. He fights ever cell in his body in order to shoot the now shaking boy a warm smile. The muscles around his face ache due to the strain of the coldness. ''Go, Donghyuck. It will be alright. I'll find a ship and we will meet once again.'' 

 

Donghyuck continues on shaking his head as a sob erupts through his lips. He shoots his father a desperate look and returns his gaze back at Mark. With quick steps, he walks up until they are standing chest to chest. ''I'm not leaving you, Mark. We have to see the world together, remember?'' 

 

Mark swallows down the large lump in his throat. ''Donghyuck, please don't make this harder than it already is. You need to live, you heard what your father told you: there are only lifeboats for half the ship. You are in the better half.'' 

 

Donghyuck flinches and places a careless kiss on Mark's lips. ''Shut the hell up, Mark—'' 

 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees the way Mr. Seo is examining them. He deflates his shoulders and grabs a hold of them both before Donghyuck finishes off his sentence. ''Enough of this, let's go, children.'' 

 

 

''You must have lost your mind,'' Donghyuck's grandmother splutters out as she watches Mr. Seo, Donghyuck and Mark walk up to where their lifeboat is located. There are several others either on their way down from the deck to the sea or have just landed on top of the erratic waves. Unsurprisingly, there are only women and children Mark recognizes from the first class. No second or third class in sight. 

 

''Get on the boat, Mother,'' Mr. Seo says, and he sounds as exhausted as the rest of them. He gives the deck crew by their boat a small smile and proceeds to direct his wife inside the boat. 

 

''That,'' she spits out and points accusingly at Mark, ''Pest is not coming inside my boat. It will sink, goddamn it. It's already crowded as is.'' 

 

Mr. Seo mutters out that her dress alone is a safety hazard, and if they weren’t currently in a life or death scenario, Mark might have cracked up in laughter. 

 

''He is coming with us,'' Donghyuck says — begs. He steps inside the boat and grabs a hold of Mark's shivering hand. ''Come inside, darling. ''

 

''Donghyuck,'' Mark starts off. Donghyuck's face falls as he pulls back his hand. ''Jeno, and Renjun.'' 

 

The ship tilts even further, making Mark flatter in his step. There are loud noises that sound like a lightning bolt, but the skies are pitch black, so Mark can only assume that it's the breakage of the ship.

 

''Father can pay someone to make sure that they are safe, I promise you. Please, just come inside, Mark.'' 

 

Despite his words, Mark doesn't go inside. Someone pushes his back as a way to urge him on, but he stays put and watches Mr. Seo step inside the boat next to his family. ''I can't leave them here, you know?'' 

 

''Mark, listen to me, alright?'' Donghyuck stands up, even if the deck crew asked of them not to do something so reckless. ''I need you with me,  _please_.'' 

 

Something inside Mark's heart snaps. This is the boy he loves, and the boy he loves needs him. The boy that has turned his entire life upside down, that he promised that he would show the entire world to. The boy with a smile that puts the sun to shame, that melts his own heart just by existing. Mark has never seen him look this broken before, and the expression doesn't fit him whatsoever. 

 

''Let the boy go,'' Donghyuck's mother sternly says, while fixing her hat. She doesn't even bother shooting them a single look. ''He clearly doesn't seem to appreciate the gift handed to him.'' 

 

''I can't, I love him!'' Donghyuck screams, and it comes out in a broken mess.

 

Before Mark even manages to let the words sink in, the front of his shirt gets grabbed and he falls down flat inside the boat. The impact makes his sight go slightly blurry around the edges, all he can assume is that he must have hit his head against a sharp edge, or perhaps the cold weather was finally catching up with him. Either way, he isn’t allowed to dwell on it too much because everything goes black seconds later.

 

 

(Epilogue)

 

''You have to start drawing others, how are we supposed to get food on the table?'' Donghyuck whines, but there's a pleased glint inside his eyes. 

 

''Unless you help me find inspiration in other's, I'm fine with you being my only muse,'' Mark shrugs and resumes to coloring the dark brown hair strands of Donghyuck's hair. ''And it isn't as if we are lacking money, people love buying drawings of your face.'' 

 

Donghyuck walks around their dinner table until he reaches Mark's slumped down body. He wraps his arms around him and buries his face inside his neck. ''Using my beauty only for money, are we now?'' 

 

The giggling leaving Donghyuck's lips make Mark's neck itch delightfully. He drops his pen in order to press a small peck against Donghyuck's cheek. ''Just sharing my treasure with the world. I'm a selfless man.'' 

 

Donghyuck grabs the newspaper placed next to Mark's latest drawing of him and smacks it against his head without any strength in embarrassment. It was always amusing to compliment him, even now several years later after they have met. Mark leans back to steal back the newspaper and returns back the action childishly. ''Don't use Jeno's newspaper as a weapon, he takes pride in his work.'' 

 

On cue, Jeno walks into the kitchen with eyes clouded with sleep. He steals Mark's coffee cup and drowns the content, not caring about burning his tongue. ''I do.'' 

 

Donghyuck looks at both of them in bafflement. He snorts and walks out of the room while mumbling something about only Renjun appreciating him in this household. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, after a whole lot of struggle: here she is. I hope you found enjoyment in reading this fic and in my attempts of writing something serious, lmao. 
> 
> Also, here’s to Markhyuck suddenly singing My heart will go on while I was working on this fic.. they felt me writing this huh? 
> 
> Do tell me your thoughts by leaving a comment or kudos. I love you! 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckyan) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckyang)


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